


Marry Me?

by FakeK



Series: Haikyuu!! One-shots [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Competition, Fluff, Innuendo, M/M, Mentioned Oikawa Tooru, Mentioned Shimizu Kiyoko, Mentioned Sugawara Koushi, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Stupidity, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27674828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeK/pseuds/FakeK
Summary: Atsumu did an oops.Osamu just wants to get stuff done.Suna is laughing as hard as physically possible without making a sound.Motoya is confused.Kiyoomi is trying.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: Haikyuu!! One-shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021774
Comments: 2
Kudos: 102





	Marry Me?

**Author's Note:**

> This was based off a prompt I saw on Twitter.

**3rd POV**

**-**

The door to the flower shop shot open with a force that could rival the speed of Oikawa Tooru’s jump serve. In stormed Miya Atsumu in a flurry. He quickly slammed the door shut behind him and rushed over to the counter, hopping over it.

His brother on the other side looked up at him with a smirk. What kind of idiotic trouble did Atsumu get into that Osamu needed to get him out of?

Atsumu took a moment to breathe before staring straight into Osamu’s eyes with his widened ones.

“‘Samu. How do ya go back to a place where ya shouted “marry me” at ‘n employee on reflex?” Atsumu demanded. Oh crap, he was being serious.

“Bloody… What’dja do?”

Atsumu’s thoughts jumped back to just minutes ago.

_ Atsumu was going to win that bet he made with Osamu. He was going to get a tattoo before him,  _ and  _ not tell him about it. It was a full-proof plan. _

_ So here he was, standing in front of the tattoo parlor down the street. Itachiyama Inks. The building was similar to the flower shop he co-owned with Osamu, but this one was shorter and had smaller windows. He could see inside the small shop through the windowed door. The inside was rather simple with creamy gray walls and light wood flooring. Across the walls were designs, and pictures of tattoos. Each one different and unique in its own way. At the counter was a man slightly shorter than himself with caramel-colored hair and abnormally large circular eyebrows. _

_ He entered the shop. The man at the counter looked up and gave Atsumu a sweet smile. He began speaking. “Hi! My name is Komori Mo-” _

_ At the back of the room, a smoking hot man emerged from around a corner. He had curly black hair with an undercut and two little moles on his forehead. There was a white mask covering his face and he stood just centimeters taller than Atsumu. _

_ He was wearing an all-black outfit, yet it still looked impeccably stylish. The only non-black thing was a silver dog tag necklace. He had three lobe piercings and his right shoulder was covered in a tattoo of peonies and a snake. _

_ Atsumu instantly thought of the meaning of peonies.  _

_ Honor; prosperity; compassion; good fortune; riches; happy marriage; romance; bashfulness _

_ Did this beaut know the meanings? _

_ Did Atsumu have any restraint? _

_ Nope! _

_ After a few seconds, Atsumu quickly lifted his arm to pointing position, directly at the mystery man. _

_ “Marry me!” Atsumu blurted. _

_ The man’s eyes widened and Atsumu dropped his arm. The guy at the counter seemed to be ready to laugh his head off or question all of his morals. _

_ After a minute, it finally registered to Atsumu what he did, so he instant;y whipped around and flew out the door. _

_ Thus brings us back to the present. _

Atsumu shuddered at the embarrassment and answered the question. “I-I was gettin’ a ta- a surprise! For you. An’ I didn’t get it cuz’ I ran out after I embarrassed myself.” Atsumu explained. “So… I need ta go back. But I ain’t goin’ in ‘ere after embarrassin’ myself like that.”

“An’ ya want me to help ya?” Osamu questioned.

“Yeah…”

“Y’know, ya owe me afta this.” 

“I’m already gettin’ ya somethin’. Yer gonna love it. I don’t owe ya anythin’ else.”

“Whatever, if it means gettin’ ya off the couch and complainin’ about bein’ single then sure. We’ll do it in a few days. For now, get ta work!”

And Osamu was true to his word, he would help. But Atsmu was impatient, so he whined, and  _ whined _ , and  _ whined _ . Until it was the day. He would see his newfound crush again, hopefully.

For Atsumu and Osamu, the day started the night before. They needed some preparation for the next day. They started with the clothing, it had to be a different style from what Atsumu normally wore. Which wasn’t difficult. 

Osamu simply took something from Suna. A plum-colored shirt with sleeves just above the elbow. Then they did some digging and found a pair of high-waisted, white-washed mom jeans that had some holes far back in Atsumu’s closet.

Osamu decided for Atsumu that he’d wear his earrings. He’d gotten his ears pierced after high school, but barely ever wore earrings. He’d gotten helix piercings as well, besides just the normal lobe piercing. So, now, he had two, small, silver rings in his outer ear.

Osamu had to fight Suna to allow Atsumu to wear socks with Birkenstocks, it was a process. But it was all part of the plan.

So here we are! The next day! Both Osamu and Suna knew this was going to be a  _ show _ .

They were still at their shared apartment—Atsumu and Osamu—and Atsumu was already panicking. Atsumu still had half a workday to go through before he would go over to the tattoo parlor.

Osamu chose to rush Atsumu through the morning to get him over the nerves, mainly to forget what he was going to do later that day. And it worked. Because they now had a half-hour before Atsumu would leave the shop and test his luck.

Suna and Osamu were working in the shop today. And currently, while there were no customers in the shop, they were finishing up Atsumu’s look in the back of the store.

His dark green apron had already been taken off and he been once-overed for dirt. So, the makeover began.

Changing his hairstyle was first. That was easy, Suna just pulled it all into a short ponytail in the back. But not without Atsumu’s complaining. He did  _ not  _ like this hairstyle. Though, he would deal with it if he got to see that “mysterious dark angel” again. (In Atsumu’s words)

Anyone could tell who he was by his face, so they changed that too. Somewhere, Osamu had found a pair of glasses. So they went on his face. Atsumu was even given a fake beauty mark on his chin, courtesy of Suna, and makeup.

They rolled up the cuffs of his jeans and tucked the shirt loosely into them.

In all honesty, both Suna and Osamu had to admit he looked good—not to his face,  _ obviously _ . Can’t have him any more self-centered.

He was officially ready.

Osamu passed him a piece of bubblegum. “To keep yerself from blabbin’ too much. Know yer gonna need it,” he explained.

“Am I supposed to feel thankful or upset ya just insulted me?” Atsumu questioned.

“Get out of here,” Suna said, pushing Atsumu out to the front of the store. They followed behind him.

While he was still behind the counter, Atsumu picked up a small notebook off of it. He didn’t know if he’d need it or not.

He quickly slipped out the door as a customer was walking in. He had to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Atsumu knew he’d look weird if he stood waiting outside the tattoo parlor, so he walked straight in.

Mental preparation was out of the question, for there was no time. He had to improv now.

The bell chimed as he walked into the parlor, the same man sat at the desk. He seemed like the observant type, but Atsumu hoped that he hadn’t stuck around long enough last time to connect the dots.

The man looked up and there seemed to be a look of recognition flashing over his features before they returned to their resting position after a shake of his head.

Atsumu walked up to the counter.

“Hi, I’m Komori Motoya. Nice to meet you. And you are..?” the man provided.

“Good afternoon, ma name’s Miya Atsumu. Please though, just Atsumu!”

“Alrighty! Um, I don’t think any Miya Atsumu has an appointment scheduled. May I ask why you’re here?”

“Oh, I‘m ‘ere to schedule one. That’s okay, right?” Atsumu had great skill in faking a front. So changing his personality wasn’t too difficult.

“Yes!” Komori took a miniature notebook from beneath the counter and a pen from a small cup. “What dates would work best for you?”

“Eh, I’m free whenever this week. Anytime will work, but I would like to be done before supper.”

“Alright, will Sunday at 1:15 work?”

“Yep, at’ll do.”

Atsumu was getting ready to leave the parlor, he hadn’t seen the ravenette from last time, but he had succeeded in one category, scoring an appointment. Then again, it might not be with the man.

“Wait! Atsumu, quick question, do you have an idea for the tattoo, or are you doing this on a whim? You shouldn’t do this kind of thing on a whim, I hope you know that,” Komori called before Atsumu could walk away from the counter.

Atsumu turned back around. “Yeah,” he replied, pulling out the small black notebook from his pocket. “I’m not very good at drawin’, but this is the design I’d like.”

He flipped to the page where he’d drawn a poorly done sketch of orchids surrounding a fox. Not that Komori could tell that they were orchids, to him they simply looked like flowers. Over parts of the sketch were scratched in words in rather poor handwriting.

“Would you mind explaining the tattoo you want? I’m not sure I quite understand your sketch…” Komori said, trying so hard not to offend Atsumu.

“Oh, sure! My drawin’s suck so ’s fine,” Atsumu said. He pointed to the makeshift fox looking thing. “‘at’s just a fox sittin’ in orchids. I really like foxes. The orchids on the other hand… have a few meanin’s I like.” Atsumu didn’t bother to clarify further. The meanings still flashed through his head.

Friendship; new beginnings; elegance; integrity; love; pride; boldness; sexuality

Things Atsumu wish he had. He wanted a restart; a redo with some things. He wished he could have integrity; to be honest. Sigh… he wished he had a love that wasn’t simply retained to platonic and brotherly.

Things Atsumu did have. He was too prideful; mother told him that, everyone told him that. He was bold, whether that be good or bad all Atsumu could think of was the scene days ago.

Atsumu continued his explanation. “I’d like the orchids to be yellow. ‘Ere the prettiest ta me, n’ they match my hair.” He pointed to his hair. “I would’ve done orange, but dat’d look too close to the fox’s color. I’d like ‘im to be orange.”

Komori nodded along to him. When Atsumu was finished he wrote something in the notebook again, before looking back up to Atsumu. “Where are you from? Sorry if I’m asking too personal of a question! I’m just curious to where that accent is from-'' he spluttered out the end.

Atsumu got that a lot. “Hyougo.”

Komori nodded, seemingly recovered from the earlier splutter. “Alright, thank you Atsumu. If that’s all you need, you may leave.” Komori stopped himself. “But before I forget, the artist doing your tattoo will be Sakusa Kiyoomi. He’s a bit prickly though, but I think you’ll manage. And please, try not to touch him, he doesn’t like it.”

What an interesting person.

Atsumu gave a nod and made his way to the door. “Thank you, and bye Komori!” he called.

As he made his way to his shop, he added a little hop into his step, happy from the success of scheduling an appointment without any mishaps. Though he was disappointed that he hadn’t seen the mysterious man, it was balanced out by his excitement of getting a tattoo Sunday and possibly seeing the man again. He may even be the tattoo artist doing his design.

Atsumu sprinted/skipped the rest of the way to the flower shop, and burst through the door with an exuberant grin on his face. He sighed loudly, drowning in fantasies of this Sakusa Kiyoomi being his mysterious, dark angel.

Osamu looked up from where he was helping a customer at the counter, he immediately looked to his brother’s pleased face. Even though he was just standing feet away from the entryway stupidly.

Even after the customer left and gave Atsumu a strange look, he remained planted in place.

Osamu decided to ruin his fantasies.

“Oi, ‘Tsumu! Didja get my present?” Osamu called, stirring Atsumu from his thoughts.

“A-ah! I got em ordered for ya, yer gonna love it,” Atsumu lied.

He’d been an Atsumu lie-detector since they were born, but today, he was off because he didn’t catch that blunt lie whatsoever. Suna did. But he didn’t want to waste this opportunity for a funny fight when Osamu figured it out. That’d be too good.

“Ya better ‘ave, Fatsumu!” Osamu insulted.

Atsumu sauntered up to the counter.

“I sure did, Suna sucker.”

“Actually, Atsumu, I do the sucking,” Suna called from where he was watering plants.

There was a mix of shouts and screams from both brothers, Suna simply laughed it off. Atsumu should’ve known that by now, seeing as he’d definitely heard them while they were in Osamu and his apartment.

It was now Sunday. The day Atsumu was getting his tattoo, that was possibly going to be done by the curly-haired guy. He hoped he liked guys. Atsumu had done his research, this was his first tattoo, but he wanted to be as educated as possible.

Today, his outfit was once again a conglomerate of clothes from Osamu, Suna, and him. From Suna, it was a pair of light gray harem style cargo pants. Atsumu’s white tennis shoes, and from Osamu, it was a plain black sleeveless tank top. Originally, Osamu had wanted him to wear a t-shirt, but somehow Atsumu had gotten him to let him wear a sleeveless shirt without disclosing his plan.

He had the same piercings in and he kept the hairstyle.

The morning seemed to speed by, and it was now 11 AM. 15 minutes from when his appointment started. He’d just finished eating an early lunch and had decided to brush his teeth again and floss. Can’t risk having lettuce stuck on his teeth with the possibility of seeing the peony-tattoo man.

“Seeya later, I’ll be back in a few hours. I’ve got my phone on me if ya need me. I’m not gonna miss ya,” Atsumu called as he walked out the door. He had his notebook in hand.

“Ninnie!” Osamu shouted back. Suna, standing behind Osamu, sighed, shaking his head slightly.

Atsumu turned around, pulling his bottom eyelid down and sticking out his tongue. “Bleh!”

He ran out of the store before Osamu could retort. Trying to calm himself and his steps to not break into a run. He is too excited.

The walk to the tattoo parlor is quick and easy, but it is full of nerves. Atsumu breathed in a quick breath and walked through the door of Itachiyama Inks. Komori instantly noticed him and gave a smile, beckoning to the counter. Atsumu complied.

“Good afternoon, Atsumu!” Komori greeted. “You’re a bit early, so you can just sit down for now. I believe Kiyoomi cleaned up the finished product of your… sketch.”

Atsumu definitely wanted to give Komori a Pan Am smile. Filled with loathing and unhappiness, but he gave a polite laugh instead.

“Alright, I’ll be sure ta tell him thank you. ‘at was a big mess he had ta clean up,'' Atsumu was pained. Talking bad about something he put lots of  _ effort  _ and  _ diligence _ into was seriously damaging his ego. He needed someone to talk it up. Specifically, a certain red-headed kouhai that certainly loved to boost his ego without even realizing it. Osamu surely would be  _ oh so proud _ .

Atsumu nodded stiffly and sat in one of the cream-white chairs by the window looking out onto the street. He could just slightly see his own store. He hoped Osamu didn’t see him come here. Osamu hadn‘t seemed to be suspicious yet, but there was still a chance that he was waiting for Atsumu to be around a certain crush of his to embarrass him.

He hadn’t noticed Komori disappear through a doorway behind the counter until he heard the faint tinkling of a laugh. He looked up from where he was scrolling through his phone.

From the doorway not guarded by a counter, a tall man with dark hair came strolling out of. It was  _ not  _ Atsumu’s beloved. He had messy hair covering his right eye and was wearing a light gray beanie. In Atsumu’s completely  _ professional  _ and  _ personal _ opinion, he’d look hot… if he fixed that nasty hair of his. Utterly disgusting.

A shorter man with short black hair walked out behind him. He was actually pretty. He had a tattoo of an owl on his forearm. Actually… There were multiple tattoos of owls on his arms. 

“Thanks, Akaashi! Kenma is going to be so proud of me not having him come along this time!” the one not named Akaashi exclaimed. 

“Yes, Kuroo-san. I’m sure he’ll be very proud…” Akaashi spoke in an unwavering tone filled with doubt and lies.

Neither one was named Sakusa Kiyoomi. Good, more of a chance for the other dark-haired man to be it.

They finally noticed Atsumu sitting in front of them. Kuroo walked up to him.

“Hey man, is this gonna be your first tattoo?” Kuroo asked.

Akaashi came behind him. “Kuroo-san, don’t scare him away. He’s our business.”

“Nah, I don’t mind. N’ yeah, it is,” Atsumu said. “You, Kuroo I think? Ya’ve sure got a weird taste of hairstyles.”

Kuroo glared at Atsumu. Riling people up is fun!

“Yeah, and your hair isn’t much better. What did you use to dye it? Dandelions?” Kuroo snapped back.

“Hey, it’s better than havin’ a rooster lookin’ thi-” Akaashi cut Atsumu off. 

“Okay… How about we calm down and get Kuroo to leave and get Miya-san to his appointment. Sakusa-san doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Kuroo let out a laugh, sounding a bit too much like a hyena for Atsumu’s comfort. “You’re stuck with Ki-kun!? Hahahe. Good luck.”

Is Ki-kun Sakusa Kiyoomi? Atsumu figures that, yes, it is. Atsumu should have a nickname for Sakusa… 

“Okay, Kuroo-san how about you go.” Akaashi pushed Kuroo out the door. As the door shut behind the man Akaashi sighed and shook his head. “Sorry Miya-san, he’s a pain. I believe Sakusa-san is waiting for you, so if you would please follow me…”

Atsumu nodded, standing up from the chair and trailing after Akaashi who’d already started walking back to where he came from.

The end of the hall was a wall, but there was a bend and around the corner, it opened up into a room on the right. While on the left there was a small unlit hallway. Akaashi went to the right. Atsumu followed.

And this was the moment. The moment Atsumu realized he should’ve better prepared himself to face the hottest man on earth. He tried not to let it show on his face, but it felt like he was sitting at the bottom of a volcano, but the volcano was full of radiation and acid instead of lava.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was sitting in a black chair next to a tattoo chair. There were three other setups similar to this in the room. No one else besides the three of them was in the room.

“Miya-san, this is Sakusa Kiyoomi. He’ll be your artist today,” Akaashi introduced.

Atsumu nodded in response, not wanting to open his mouth in case something idiotic came out. He almost wished that Osamu had forced gum onto him. Then he’d have less of a chance to say something dumb.

Akaashi nudged Atsumu’s arm. Oh, he was supposed to introduce himself!

“Sorry! H-hi, I’m Miya Atsumu,” Atsumu rushed. He cursed himself for the stutter.

“Well, I’ll leave you be. Sakusa-san, be polite.” Akaashi walked away and down the darkened hallway.

After a minute of silence and Sakusa’s intense gaze on Atsumu—inspecting him—he spoke.

“Sit down,” Sakusa commanded. Atsumu complied. Once he was seated in the chair in front of Sakusa he spoke again. “You’re getting a tattoo on your shoulder, right?”

“Yeah, ma left one,” Atsumu confirmed.

“And you’ve never had a tattoo before?” Atsumu shook his head. “Do you have a fear of needles, and how high is your pain tolerance?”

“If I had a fear of needles I wouldn’t get a tattoo. My pain tolerance is pretty high.”

“Some people are really dumb…”

Sakusa turned and grabbed something off the rolling table beside him. It was a finished sketch of Atsumu’s design. It looked better than Atsumu’s design.

“This was what you wanted, yes?” Sakusa asked, showing Atsumu the drawing. 

It showcased an orange fox in between two orchid plants. The orchids were well done, it looked like Sakusa had some sort of reference photo. A really good one at that. Many photos of flowers don’t have individual pictures, making it harder to draw a single one. He may have had an alive one for reference. The drawing was gorgeous, but it was slightly off from what Atsumu wanted for the orchids, they were  _ pink _ . Not yellow.

“The orchids were supposed ta be yellow,” Atsumu corrected.

“Okay.” Sakusa took a pen off the table and wrote something on the sketch and set it down. “Besides that, there wasn’t anything else, right?” Atsumu shook his head. “Alright, we can get started now. If you would lay down, please. Face your shoulder towards me.” Atsumu complied. “For this tattoo, since it’s on your arm you won’t be able to use your phone, so… you can talk to me or just sit there. Just don’t be too annoying.”

Atsumu hadn’t thought about the possibility of Sakusa being rude or standoffish or not-liking boys, but all these thoughts now came to him. He could handle rude, he could handle standoffish, but he could not handle Sakusa not liking boys. Atsumu liked him, he wanted to be liked back. Is that too much to ask? In some situations, yes, yes it is.

He disregarded his fretting, he’d come back to it tonight while he was trying to sleep. That sounded like a much better time.

Sakusa put on a pair of black gloves over the pair he was already wearing and picked up something, but Atsumu paid this no mind, he simply focused on Sakusa. He was gorgeous, he looked so much prettier up close. He knew he had around five hours before he had to leave. Which meant he had five hours to look at this beautiful specimen.

Atsumu’s eyes bounced around Sakusa’s body. Before his eyes finally settled on his tattoo. He felt a prick. He glanced over to his shoulder, Sakusa was beginning his work. It stopped.

Sakusa looked at him. “That didn’t hurt too much?” he questioned.

“Nope! Barely felt it!” Atsumu let a grin spread across his face. Sakusa nodded and resumed his work. While Atsumu went back to his examination.

The snake in the tattoo was rather intricate. Each scale was drawn with a certain kind of precision that could only be obtained by some. Atsumu’s next thought was who did the tattoo?

Can you do a tattoo on yourself? How hard is it? Did Sakusa do it himself? If not, who?

So, he decided to voice his questions. Sakusa did say they could talk.

“Hey, quick question,” Atsumu started, Sakusa continued his work on Atsumu’s shoulder but gave a hum of acknowledgment. “Can ya do a tattoo on yerself?”

“Yeah, most tattoo artists start out tattooing themselves,” Sakusa answered.

“Did you?”

“Why would I tell you?”

“…because ’m curious?”

“How about no.” Atsumu hadn’t noticed, but Sakusa had stopped the inking and he was now starting again.

Atsumu bristled slightly and went back to looking at Sakusa’s tattoo. Taking in all the fine details. Now that Atsumu was closer he noticed that the peonies were closer to red than pink. The tattoo seemed to encircle Sakusa’s arm completely. This was proven when Sakusa altered his position, lifting his arms slightly. His design had more flowers than Atsumu’s, but it was anything but a mess. If anything, fewer flowers would’ve made the tattoo look worse. Not that tattoo could be made to look bad, it was gorgeous much like the man it belonged to.

As Atsumu thought this he realized just how much he thought about how pretty Sakusa Kiyoomi was.

He reeled his thoughts back into the tattoo. Meanings flew through his head for a second time.

Honor; prosperity; compassion; good fortune; riches; happy marriage; romance; bashfulness

He had decided to open his mouth again. Maybe he should’ve gotten a piece of gum today.

“Peonies. They mean compassion an’ prosperity ‘n riches an’ good fortune-” Atsumu stopped his rambling when he saw the confused look Sakusa gave him. He’d stopped the inking. “Your tattoo. It’s peonies, right?” Sakusa nodded. “Well, every flower has a meanin’. Peonies mean compassion, prosperity, ri-”

“I heard you the first time,” Sakusa interrupted.

“Did ya know the meanings?”

Sakusa went quiet, going back to the inking.

“There ’re more too,” Atsumu added. Sakusa didn’t say anything so Atsumu took it as a sign to continue. “There’s also honor an’ happy marriage, romance, and bashfulness. That’s all the ones I know.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I work at a flower shop.”

Sakusa nodded and continued. That went on for a minute before he stopped again, looking up at Atsumu. “So what do orchids mean?”

Atsumu smiled. “I thought ya’d never ask. Orchids mean friendship, new beginnings, elegance, integrity, love, pride, boldness…” Atsumu wouldn’t tell him the last one.  _ Sexuality _ . That was for him to know and Sakusa to find out. Preferably when Atsumu wasn’t in a fifty-mile radius.

Sakusa went back to work and Atsumu went back to the task at hand, trying not to blurt out how much he thought Sakusa was hot.

Today, Sakusa was wearing a similar outfit to last time. A lime green tank top with black jeans. The necklace stayed.

An hour passed by, things stayed quiet. Around then, Akaashi and a lady came into the room. Another client?

The client had shoulder-length black hair and already had a tattoo sleeve.

Sakusa didn’t look up from his work when they came in, but he did give a small nod of acknowledgment to the pair. Akaashi and Sakusa seemed to be rather similar. They were both straight to the point, blunt, pretty. The only difference was that Akaashi was slightly more polite. But then again, he liked the amount of bluntness Sakusa exempted.

Atsumu decided to listen in on the other client’s conversation. What better way to spend time than listening in on conversations?

From what Atsumu could gather, the appointment seemed to be planned and that it wouldn’t take long. An hour perhaps. The tattoo looked simple as well.

It seemed to be a wave and it was going to be on her collarbone.

Atsumu was correct, the tattoo took around an hour, and she left, and Atsumu was left to admire the room he was in.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but two of the walls were covered in photos and sketches. There was a yellow accent wall with a bathroom door on it. While most of the photos were of tattoos that had previously been done, there were some with Sakusa, Akaashi, Komori, and another man Atsumu didn’t recognize. He had silvery hair and warm brown eyes.

Atsumu had gone through as many of the photos as he could. Examining each one and looking for differences. He wanted to know as much as he could about Sakusa Kiyoomi in the shortest amount of time. This is what he did for the rest of his tattoo session.

He learned that Akaashi had a boyfriend with spiky hair and also had owl tattoos. He learned that Sakusa had a tattoo of a holly blue butterfly on a snowberry plant on his left thigh.

Snowberries, from what Atsumu knew, didn’t have a meaning. Meaningless. They could mean something to Sakusa, maybe they didn’t, maybe they were just pretty to Sakusa, so he got a tattoo. Anything is a possibility. You don’t have to have a reason to like something. Unless it’s Osamu, no one should like Osamu.

Atsumu knew that Sakusa and Komori were related. He knew that the gray-haired man was named Sugawara Koushi. He also had a boyfriend. A shorter man with dark brown hair and a warm complexion. He knew that Sakusa’s birthday was March 20th.

He knew more than he thought he should. He’d barely spoken to the man, but he knew what other clients would never know. Atsumu didn’t want to be  _ just  _ a client. He wanted to know him on a personal level.

But he’d not spent his appointment talking about Saksua’s life with him. He didn’t know what his favorite food was or what his favorite flower was. He wouldn’t say he wasted the time because Atsumu would come back and get another tattoo just to see Sakusa. And it was now time for him to leave. Sakusa had just finished up the tattoo and was currently telling him how to properly care for it.

He’d already looked up what to do. He knew it’d take around three weeks to heal, so he’d taken three weeks off work. Just to be sure that Osamu wouldn’t find out before then. He hadn’t told Osamu yet, and he knew he’d get yelled at, but it was definitely worth it since he got to meet an angel.

The aftercare process was rather easy it seemed and Atsumu would follow it to a tee. Unlike many other things. Mostly what Osamu told him to do.

After that short conversation and some written instructions, Atsumu followed Sakusa out into the foyer.

Komori was still at the counter and looked up when he heard the two enter. Atsumu walked up to the counter and slid a check over the counter, which Komori took.

“Bye, Atsumu! Come back anytime!” Komori called as Atsumu made his way to the door. Sakusa said nothing from his position leaning against the counter.

Once Atsumu made it to the door, he turned around and waved. Opening the door, Atsumu began to walk out. At the last second, before the door shut, he shouted, “Seeya later, Komori, Omi-kun!”

He’d finally come up with a nickname for Kiyoomi. He’d wanted to do it since he heard Kuroo say Ki-kun. If he got to give Kiyoomi a nickname then Atsumu could too.

Atsumu ran down the street a bit, in the opposite direction of the flower shop. He knew if he went there Osamu would definitely see the tattoo. Well, the bandage that covered it.

So, Atsumu had decided previously that he’d go home straight away, eat supper then go to bed. Osamu couldn’t bother him if he couldn’t wake him up. He’d get Osamu’s present tomorrow. He knew Osamu would get suspicious if he didn’t get him something. 

Yes, Atsumu was that smart.

Atsumu woke up to wasabi being put on his face. Osamu was bending over him with a spoon carrying wasabi.

He seemed to have already spread the nasty substance across most of his face. If Atsumu opened his mouth he most certainly would get some in his mouth. It felt like there were some on his eyelids. If that got pushed into his eyes he might have to go to the ER.

He did that screaming with your mouth closed thing, and his eyes shot open farther. If he was tired before he didn’t remember.

Osamu started laughing as he ran out of the room. The spoon filled with wasabi dropped onto Atsumu’s bed. He followed Osamu, struggling to get out of his twisted covers. 

After a moment he stood on wobbling legs. His brain wasn’t drowsy from sleep, but his body still felt it. He tried to run after Osamu but tripped over the blanket still wrapped around his feet. Atsumu plummeted to the ground. Squeezing his eyes shut, he hit the ground with a loud groan. As soon as he closed his mouth he felt a burning sensation in his mouth. THat quickly spread throughout his entire body.

He screamed, jumping up and racing to the bathroom. He couldn’t seem to get water in his mouth soon enough. The water spread across his face, getting wasabi in his nose. He continued screaming. At some point, Osamu came behind him and handed him a wet washcloth. At this point, Atsumu didn’t care if it had poison on it. If it’d get the wasabi off then it’d do.

His mouth still burned when he finally stopped shrieking. Osamu, who was still behind him, thrust a glass of milk into his palm. Atsumu shotgunned it instantly. After a second, the acid-like feeling seemed to melt away.

He internally thanked himself for putting on a long-sleeved shirt last night. It hid his tattoo and kept the bandages in place. He was certain Osamu noticed the addition. Typically, he slept shirtless even in the winter, so wearing a long-sleeved shirt is suspicious.

As soon as Atsumu had almost completely recovered he whipped around and slugged Osamu in the gut. Osamu fell back a bit, catching himself on the doorway with a grunt.

“Oi, ‘Tsumu! What was ‘at fer!?” Osamu exclaimed incredulously. “If anything I should do that ta you! Yer the one that bailed on me ‘ast night!” Osamu punched Atsumu in the shoulder. Luckily, it was the one without a tattoo.

“Uhh! Ya put  _ wasabi _ on ma face! Totally fair,” Atsumu retorted. “Oh, by the way, I’m not workin’ fer one and a half weeks.”

“ _ WHAT _ !?”

Atsumu ran out of the bathroom, sliding around the corner on the hardwood floor. Were his socks a gift or a liability? He could hear Osamu behind him. But he could also hear the timer on the stove going off. Atsumu knew that Osamu cared about food and beating Atsumu up, but which one was more important?

**We’ll find out in the next episode of-**

Shut up.

Turns out, Osamu cares more about food. The rice was done cooking, and if Osamu didn’t want it to burn he’d have to take it out immediately.

Atsumu escaped!

But… he knew that as soon as he took the rice off and put the natto on and ate, he’d instantly be after Atsumu again.

So Atsumu had less than 10 minutes. He ran to his room and dressed quickly. The door was left open while doing so. The kitchen was around the corner and Osamu wouldn’t see his tattoo so it worked. He didn’t bother with doing his hair properly and simply brushed it through once. Breakfast was skipped as he grabbed his wallet and jumped out his window. He’d get it later.

Currently, he had to find a present for his brother. Possibly the most humiliating thing he’s ever had to do. It couldn’t even be a dumb gag gift like they did for Christmas and their birthday. It had to mean something.

Osamu had helped him in so many ways over the years and if this was his one chance to repay it, then he’d take it. Atsumu didn’t think he’d ever properly said thank you to his twin. He couldn’t make it blatantly obvious that he was thanking him for everything Osamu had done for him. He’d get teased to no end or they’d both end up crying on the floor. Both options were not ideal.

Atsumu found his gift to give to Osamu and went to get breakfast. The rest of the day was spent buying groceries and avoiding Osamu and daydreaming of kissing Kiyoomi. Overall, it was a good day.

Was Atsumu allowed to be this bored? 

He’d already spent the last hour rolling on the floor. He was only four days into having no work and was already bored to the bone. He hadn’t realized how much of his time was taken up by doing work at the flower shop and how much he enjoyed it.

Atsumu promised himself never to take a break this long again unless it was for his and Kiyoomi’s honeymoon.

Boredness had overcome him and he began picking flowers from their personal garden that they kept prim and proper all the while running a business. He used the flowers to make bouquets. Something he did half of the time. The other half was done by Suna. It wasn’t much of a garden as it was plants scattered across the house and flower boxes in front of the windows.

The boxes had been poorly constructed, they’d been handmade by Atsumu and Osamu when they first moved into the house. It’d taken about two weeks to get it all down, and fights between them broke out almost every day. The project was difficult and it seemed to almost make them regret moving in with each other, but in the end, it was worth the while.

From the flower box in front of the two windows in the kitchen, he took four white tulips, and from a pot in the living room, he took several purple, pink, and red bearded irises.

Tulips. They symbolized perfect love, elegance, happiness, and forgiveness.

Irises. They symbolized hope, admiration, eloquence, and faith.

Hope, because he hopes that he’ll date Kiyoomi. He hopes for perfect love. He hopes for happiness.

Faith, because he needs to have faith that he’ll be able to at least become friends with Kiyoomi. 

Atsumu spent the rest of that week doing whatever he felt like. Mainly being creating bouquets and reading through one of his flower language books. Plus, avoiding Osamu. Not that that was easy, because he lived with him. The rest of his time was spent dreaming of Kiyoomi. Well, actually, even while he was reading and crafting bouquets the dreams kept flitting across his mind.

As before, the week passed by impeccably slowly. But it passed without any too interesting predicament.

The next days without work also passed without interest or incident. It was almost… calm… 

It was finally time for Atsumu to head back to work, he still had another half a week until he could take the bandages off, but he figured that it was mostly healed and he’d be fine to head back to work.

The only issue was how warm it’d get doing his work. He couldn’t let Osamu see the bandages yet, he had to wait for the perfect moment. They kept the store fairly warm, not with heating but with how many windows were in the store the sunlight kept it heated. AC was useless when sunlight was at play.

Most of the time, Atsumu was fine. He typically wore a sleeveless shirt and some form of pants, ranging from shorts to jeans and sweatpants. So, he had to compromise.

Today, he put on a white t-shirt covering it with an open flannel that wasn’t really flannel. It was more of light-weight cotton. He knew he’d get bashed by Osamu and Suna, but he still put on a pair of light-colored jean shorts. According to them, long-sleeved shirts didn’t  _ go  _ with shorts, but Atsumu did it anyway.  _ This  _ was normal behavior for him.

He walked to the store with Osamu and Suna. Like normal. Osamu constantly berating him for not being at for the last week and a half and in the same breath, hating on his fashion choices with Suna.

As soon as they arrived at the store—after picking up food for lunch and snack time—Osamu left. He was on deliveries.

The store hadn’t been able to do too many recently because they tried to keep two people in the store at all times, and with Atsumu being at home it was impossible to keep that up.

So, Atsumu and Suna worked in the shop. Well, mostly Atsumu because Suna liked to “slack off” when it was just them working. (He didn’t.)

Osamu had barely left the shop when Suna asked in possibly the scariest calm voice ever: “What the heck did you do.”

“H-hehe… W-what’re you talking about..?” Atsumu laughed off, scared out of his mind.

Suna put his hand on Atsumu’s left shoulder. Atsumu’s eyes widened an inch. He forced them down.

“What’d you do to your shoulder, Atsumu?”

“Nothing.”

Suna let his hand slip. “I’m smart enough to know that I saw you walk down the street to Itachiyama Inks. I’m also smart enough to know that Osamu didn’t, and if he did… well… you may or may not be okay. But you already knew that, didn’t you?” Suna’s voice was a mix of threatening and perfectly calm. “If you remember two years ago I got a tattoo. There. Meaning, I know who works there. In fact, I know which one you asked to marry because we exchanged numbers. Does Sakusa Kiyoomi ring a bell?”

Atsumu’s mind flashed back to the small tattoo on Suna’s ankle. An hourglass, spilling into nothingness. He still didn’t know what it meant. It looked cool though.

He answered, “I don’t know, does it, Sunarin?” Atsumu was being cocky now. Out of nerves or overcoming them, it wasn’t going to help him any.

“Well-”

Before Suna could continue beating into his boyfriend’s twin. Atsumu glanced out the window. 

“Eep!” Atsumu squealed before turning around and running, jumping over the counter and onto the floor. At that moment, one Sakusa Kiyoomi entered the shop.

Suna glanced over to Kiyoomi then to the counter where no Atsumu appeared. His eyes were filled with amusement and exasperation.

“Good morning, Sakusa,” Suna greeted.

“What was that noise?” Kiyoomi questioned.

“Oh, that was probably someone knocking something over.” Suna was a better liar than Atsumu.

“You work with two others, right?” Suna was hoping to get a reaction like this.

“Yeah, my boyfriend and his twin are the owners,” Suna answered.

“Shouldn’t you check on them to make sure they aren’t damaged?” Of course, Kiyoomi would only ever think of a person as an item that could get damaged. Not hurt.

Suna nodded, slowly meandering his way behind the counter, he, unlike Atsumu, did not hit the floor roughly when he went behind it because he  _ has  _ a brain.

He roughly grabbed Atsumu’s hand from the floor. Turning around, he opened the door to the backroom and dragged Atsumu with him. Atsumu was awake and he was in pain, but what can you do when you look like you did when you told your crush you wanted to marry him?

(It’s a very common situation, you know. You need to know the proper etiquette in these types of situations.)

Nothing. That’s what.

He let himself be dragged into the room. It seemed to be similar to something you’d see in a horror movie or nightmare. The backroom was pitch black and the door was shut before the light was turned on.

The light switch was flipped. “Get up,” Suna commanded. Atsumu complied. Sighing, Suna grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to the bathroom back there.

The light switch was flipped. Suna left. He came back. Things started moving forward.

In the bathroom stood a full-length mirror for being extra purposes obviously. Suna had brought in a stool and told Atsumu to sit on it. It stood in front of the mirror. Atsumu sat on it, he’d already figured out what was going on and he was eternally grateful for Suna. It needed to be finished quickly though.

For some unknown reason, Suna had extra clothes in his bag. What a weirdo. 

Atsumu put them on.

Once that was finished, Suna began on his hair and makeup. It was the same style as the previous times. pulled back into a ponytail and a beauty mark on his chin. Glasses were added since they were left in the shop.

Lastly, Atsumu took a piece of gum from his bag. 

He was ready. Hopefully.

He let Suna walk out first since he wasn’t sure what’d he say yet. He knew that he’d have to go eventually, rather soon actually. There was no way to prepare him for this within seconds. Atsumu would have to improvise.

As soon as Suna started to say something he walked out. When all else fails, be a nuisance. “Well, hello ‘ere Omi-omi! Sunarin told me all ‘bout ya worryin’ over me,” Atsumu interrupted. He blew a bubble with his gum, pushing it back into his mouth before it popped.

Kiyoomi seemed to look at him with a disgusted look. He definitely didn’t try to hide it. Suna glanced at him with disdain.

“I wasn’t worried about you, but usually, when you hear a loud noise you question what it is. You could’ve been spilling blood all over the floor if Suna didn’t check on you.” Kiyoomi seemed to shudder at the thought of getting blood on the floor.

“Ya see, ya were worryin’ over whether I was bleedin’ or not.”

“The floor would have gotten messy and gross.”

“Eh? Mean Omi-kun! Why’re ya here anyways?” Atsumu pouted.

“Whenever I work without you and Osamu I invite him over here,” Suna answered.

“Then why’s he ‘ere now.”

“I haven’t seen him in a while, and decided that if he could handle you while doing your tattoo then he could handle you now.”

Atsumu knew that wasn’t true. Suna had been trying to embarrass him, and he’d done pretty well.

He thought back to all the flower language he studied while he was at home.

Petunias. Anger and resentment.

“Sunarin, yer really gettin’ petunias outta me,” Atsumu stated. Kiyoomi looked at him with confusion.

Suna laughed. “Atsumu, I don’t think you should be desiring me. Your brother is my boyfriend,” Suna shot back.

Oh yeah. And desire and hope. Flowers are confusing.

“Y’know what I meant!”

“I know that you’re a geranium.” Atsumu’s face twisted after a subtle gasp.

Now that’s just rude.” Atsumu was done with Suna. “I’m gonna do what yer s’posed ta be doin’ right now.” He stalked out from behind the counter and went over to the far wall. Where the sink was located.

Before he filled up the watering can, Atsumu went onto his phone and turned on some playlist. It was connected to the speakers in the shop. He turned up the volume.

Atsumu started with the primroses. All he could hear was the thrum of the bass and the splash of the water hitting the dirt. Good luck; perfect health; purity; fresh starts. Sigh…

His pride had ultimately been restored when he heard Suna mention that Atsumu had taught him what he knew about flower language.

Sauntering behind the counter, Atsumu whacked Suna on the back. “Ya know it!”

Atsumu moved to lean on the counter next to Suna, facing Kiyoomi.

“So, Miya, what do geraniums mean?” Kiyoomi asked snarkily with a raise of an eyebrow. Atsumu swore he saw an eye crinkle.

“Foolishness, stupidity…” Atsumu mumbled.

Kiyoomi started laughing, Atsumu raised his widened eyes to his face. His eyes were squeezed shut with crinkles in the corners. A hand was covering where his mouth would be if he wasn’t wearing a mask. Atsumu stared with a tilted head and parted lips.

He was still staring when Kiyoomi finished laughing. As soon as he noticed the staring, he frowned. Atsumu blinked and snapped his mouth shut. He turned to Suna.

Suna began speaking again, which pulled Atsumu out of his short-lived embarrassment. “I only say what’s true,” he stated, shrugging.

“Why is everyone so mean ta me…” Atsumu moaned.

“Because it’s funny.”

Atsumu was about to pout when there was a large bang from the backroom.

Suna and Atsumu whipped their heads up to face each other.

“Atsumu, distract Osamu!” Suna whispered. Atsumu gave a sharp nod and ran into the backroom.

In the end, Osamu never found out about Kiyoomi. If he had, Suna would never have a shift by himself again. He couldn’t just leave his darling alone!

Osamu disappeared from the shop during the middle of the day five days after Kiyoomi went to the flower shop. Suna hadn’t seen him or knew where he was, but Atsumu expected otherwise.

Suna always knew.

Osamu was going to get a tattoo. He was going to beat his twin to it. He would know if Atsumu got a tattoo. If he didn’t find out, Suna would and tell him.

Suna always did.

He was going to Itachiyama Inks, where Suna got his tattoo done. But first, he had to schedule an appointment. Samu had somehow escaped from the shop in the middle of the day without Atsumu noticing, now, five minutes late, he’d noticed and started texting him.

Osamu had gone to a cafe nearby for food, he was  _ starving _ , so he’d yet to go to the tattoo parlor. He had just finished up eating though and was heading over there. All the while, leaving Atsumu on read.

Osamu had worn his least favorite jacket today, just on the off chance that Atsumu looked out the window. He didn’t wear it often.

He now had the parlor in view. It was a simple building. The front was all windowed from the left side of the door, the door was glass too. On the right side of the door was a small continuation of the windows before they ended.

The door was now in front of him. He was now opening the door and walking in. To the left of the door was a counter. The walls were a creamy white color, and to the left, there was a yellow accent wall with photos of tattoos and sketches across it.

There seemed to be no chime on the door, but the man at the counter still turned to him as he walked in. That man had bulbous ovular eyebrows and caramel-colored hair. 

As Osamu walked closer the man’s eyebrows seemed to grow higher on his forehead and his eyes grew impossibly wider.

Osamu thought this man was about to have a stroke. He was proven wrong when-

“Hey, Motoya, do you know where my- aren’t you that guy that asked if he could marry me.”

-Kiyoomi walked in.

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t confusion. It was a statement. A statement that Osamu recognized. From his brother.

Atsumu had come here. Atsumu had beaten him. He helped Atsumu beat him.

“ATSUMU!” Osamu screeched, scaring the living daylight out of Motoya. He immediately ran out of the parlor, rushing towards the flower shop where he knew Atsumu would be.

Before he rushed out of the tattoo parlor. He stopped at the door, not even bothering to look back at the two behind him. “I. Will. Be. Back.”

He barely got a glance of the man that Atsumu had called gorgeous. He simply had a look of immense confusion and disgust.

Osamu’s shoes slid around the corner, he’d cut across half the road too. Luckily, there weren’t too many cars on it. The ones that were honked at him. Osamu did not apologize.

The shop stood in front of him now, Suna had spotted him and appeared to be laughing his head off. Of course.  _ He  _ would know. Atsumu seemed to be confused by Suna’s outburst, as he was frantically looking around, trying to see what caused it.

By the time he caught sight of Osamu outside, it was already too late. He had reached the door and was flinging it open. Osamu took no mind of the two customers inside the shop. He had other things to worry about other than his shop’s reputation.

“Atsumu.” Osamu barked shrilly.

Atsumu tried to whip his head towards Osamu, but he already faced him. His face showed absolute horror. Wide eyes filled his face. If Atsumu had needed to pee, well… he wouldn’t need to anymore.

Osamu approached his twin menacingly. He deserved some pummeling, but that had to wait. Osamu had to embarrass him right now.

He seemed to man up the closer Osamu got to him. So by the time Osamu was inches away from Atsumu he’d decided to glare at Osamu. (Bad decision bro!)

Osamu thrust an accusing finger into Atsumu’s chest. “Show me yer darn tattoo, ‘Tsumu.”

Atsumu’s confidence appeared to flicker at the word tattoo. “‘Kay, but I won the bet. I got it first. Ya lost.” This made Osamu’s agitation grow louder from within him. He pulled off his ripped up jean jacket. On his left arm was a tattoo. Beautifully done. A fox and yellow orchids.

Osamu barely knew the flower language, but these flowers were some of Atsumu’s favorites, and he was constantly pestered about how pretty they were.

He knew some of the meanings.

Friendship; elegance; love; pride

Sigh… so dramatic. Osamuthouhgt of the flower he wanted tattoos. No meaning. It did represent something to him though, something sort of important to him.

“Yer comin’ with me, fool,” Osamu sighed, gripping Atsumu's forearm and dragging towards the door. Atsumu tried to stop him, dragging his heels on the ground. It didn’t help.

As Osamu dragged him out the door, he squealed and cried, flailing around like a toddler. He basically was one.

Even with the extra weight of his brother, Osamu still made good time with speeding over to the tattoo parlor. The many stares provided with dragging your twin there could never be enough to deter Osamu from embarrassing Atsumu to the highest degree.

Within two minutes they were at the tattoo parlor. Osamu allowed his brother to stand up, which he did, cowering behind his brother nonetheless. He knew what was coming.

Osamu swung the door open, both men were still in the room. He took this time to better see Atsumu’s crush. Yes, Atsumu had exaggerated lots with the description, but he’d gotten the general gist down. Dark and mysterious. Hot. All were correct. He wore a white face mask and a dark red t-shirt.

He stepped five steps forward. Atsumu still trying to hide behind him. Motoya and Atsumu’s crush followed him with each step.

“So you’ve come back,” Motoya stated.

“Yes,” Osamu answered heavily, “and with the real culprit.” He tugged on Atsumu’s arm.

Apparently, Atsumu decided to man up and stood up properly, still behind Osamu but visible. Motoya stared. Atsumu’s crush narrowed his eyes in disgust.

“What a warm welcome!” And he had recovered. “Where is my bouquet, Omi-omi?” Atsumu gave a lazy smile.

“You’re the one who’s a florist,” Omi-omi? shot back. It was an Atsumu nickname, so what were these peoples’ real names?

“Doesn’t mean I don’t ya to give flowers ta me.”

Omi-omi sighed, “So you aren’t kidding? You’re the one that wanted to marry me?”

“Well yes, So do ya ‘ave an answer?” Atsumu’s grin grew larger at each reply. Motoya still hadn’t said anything, and Atsumu and Omi-omi seemed to be stuck in a world by themselves.

“Usually, first dates occur before marriage.” At this point, a silver-haired man walked into the room, the same way Omi-omi came.

He began to open his mouth but was shushed by Osamu putting a finger to his lips. A shushing motion. The mouth closed.

“Are ya insinuatin’ what I think yer insinuatin’?” Atsumu questioned with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Depends,” was Omi-omi’s terse reply.

“Well, th-” Atsumu was cut off by an alarm. Osamu’s alarm. For his and Atsumu’s weekly phone call back home. Everyone’s eyes were on him.

Atsumu whipped his head to him. Eyes wide. “Is that-”

“Yes.”

Atsumu let out a breath, all eyes were on him now. “Well, guess it’s time for us ta leave. Seeya later, Omi-kun,” Atsumu called, already making his way to the door. “I’ll be sure ta take up yer offer.”

“I didn’t make-” Omi-omi? Omi-kun? began. He was stopped by Osamu. Atsumu was already walking down the street.

“Ya can’t get outta this.” Osamu followed. “It’s impossible.”

They did go on a date—after three weeks. The time before was spent on a weekly visit to the flower shop. And yes, Osamu did get his tattoo—eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> This tag has grown so much since I first found it. Like what the heck! :)


End file.
